


Corresponding Shapes

by Savoytruffle



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Open Relationships, Reverse Chronology, Romance, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-18
Updated: 2010-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savoytruffle/pseuds/Savoytruffle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic starts at the end and finishes at the beginning. It's about the 12 years or so that Jim and Bones <i>don't</i> spend together on the <i>Enterprise</i>. But it's not angsty. It might even be called romantic – in a snarky sort of way. Also, there's this threesome in the middle, but I can't really explain that. Would you believe that part’s kind of romantic, too? No – really. Anyway, there’s a fair amount of sex, but it's more about the banter than the smut. Sometimes Joanna is around, but y’know, not for the sex. And did I mention it goes backwards?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corresponding Shapes

**Author's Note:**

> Gorgeous artwork for this fic by the ever-generous and amazingly talented [](http://katekat1010.livejournal.com/profile)[**katekat1010**](http://katekat1010.livejournal.com/). Superspeed beta by [](http://graceandfire.livejournal.com/profile)[**graceandfire**](http://graceandfire.livejournal.com/). World's best prereading and moral support by [](http://cordelianne.livejournal.com/profile)[**cordelianne**](http://cordelianne.livejournal.com/). Title from ["Such Great Heights" by the Postal Service](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Such_Great_Heights). The poem Jim begins to recite in the first scene is ["she being Brand" by e.e. cummings](http://oldpoetry.com/opoem/12459-e-e-cummings-she-being-Brand), but without his characteristic punctuation.

__

_**June 7, 2269**  
_

The shuttle quivers as it prepares for take-off, jolting as it disconnects from solid ground. Leonard McCoy’s heart jolts along in sympathy, breath catching in his throat.

He looks around at the fresh faces filling the other seats and thinks to himself, _I am way too old for this shit._

He squeezes his eyes shut and keeps them that way, even when he hears a body drop into the empty seat beside him. 

“I may throw up on you,” Leonard warns.

The answering chuckle almost soothes his jumpy heart – almost. “I’ll take my chances.” Leonard feels fingertips brush over the back of his hand where it grips the armrest. “No flask this time?”

Not that Leonard isn’t regretting that decision, but… “Figured that’d be conduct unbecoming.”

The chuckle repeats, lower this time. “Trust me, Doctor, you are _always_ becoming.”

“And you, kid, are always full of shit,” Leonard grumbles, but he might be smiling, too. Just a little.

“I believe the address you’re looking for here is ‘Captain.’”

Leonard finally lets his eyes open again, if only so he can roll them. He turns his head to take in Jim’s expression, which is obnoxiously beatific. No one should love leaving the planet that much. “Shouldn’t you be up front?” Leonard asks.

“Shouldn’t you be locked in the head?” Jim counters.

Leonard bites back a fond smile to mutter, “Go to hell.”

“Go to hell, _Captain_ ,” Jim says.

“We’re not on the _Enterprise_ yet,” Leonard reminds him, though, technically, they both know Jim’s right.

Of course, at the mention of his ship, Jim’s forgotten to care. “I can’t wait for you to see her, Bones. She’s so gorgeous even _you_ won’t be able to help but love her. Just think, our second maiden voyage on an _Enterprise_ …”

Leonard’s about to nip Jim’s sentimentality in the bud a grouse about how much more he could love “her” from the ground – on the safe side of a good old-fashioned vid screen – when he catches sight of the ship through the shuttle window and loses track of his complaint.

His sees his own finger pointing. “Jim, look.”

Jim’s eyes turn to the shuttle window. “ _She being brand new_ ,” he whispers, “ _and you know consequently a little stiff, I was careful of her and—_ ”

_“Captain Kirk, please return to the cockpit for docking.”_

Jim breaks off his recitation with a soft smile, clapping a hand on Bones’ shoulder. “That’s me,” he says, standing. “But trust me, Bones, she’s amazing. And her sickbay? State of the art. I told them that if we intended to drag the esteemed Doctor McCoy from his groundbreaking research, nothing less than the best would do.”

“Sure you did, kid.” Leonard rolls his eyes again. “Just because I don’t fly around in starships doesn’t mean I don’t know how they work. The sickbay schematics were finalized over a year ago.”

A good eight months _before_ Leonard agreed to any of this foolishness.

Jim just smiles. “I’m a Starfleet captain on his third commission – you don’t think I’m capable of a little long-range planning?”

Jim disappears into the cockpit before Leonard can think up a good answer. The shuttle jolts again as it maneuvers into the bay and the racing of Leonard’s heart begins anew, but maybe it’s not _all_ nerves.

He may be too old for this shit, but he’s never felt more ready.

 

**_Four Months Earlier_ **

Leonard is brought back to consciousness by the bounce of a body on the bed.

That, and an obnoxiously chipper, “Rise and shine, Bones.”

Leonard doesn’t know how Jim manages to be both a night person and a morning person, but he knows he doesn’t like it.

“Christ, Jim, don’t you ever sleep? What time is it?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Jim says, sliding a hand under the blanket and moving it in a southerly direction. 

This can mean only one thing.

“Damn it, Jim. What have I told you about turning off my alarm?”

“Waking up to your alarm makes you grumpy,” Jim says as the hand perseveres. 

Leonard shoves it away. A little. At least an inch or two. “ _You_ make me grumpy,” he says. “And you’re going to make me late for class.” 

“Class schmass,” Jim says, waving the hand that isn’t currently wrapping itself around Leonard’s dick. “So you’re a few minutes late. Who’s going to notice?”

“Jim, I _teach_ the class.”

“Which is why you can rest assured they aren’t going to start without you.”

“Says the man who’s notorious for never having started a single one of his own classes so much as thirty seconds late.”

“I know, it’s weird, huh? Me being all responsible and shit?” Jim tilts his head and shrugs slightly, even as he strokes Leonard’s growing erection. “Like if Cadet Me were in one of my classes, I’d totally have kicked him out by now.” Jim smiles, running a satisfied thumb over the tip of Leonard’s dick. “Now that’s what I call a _rise_. Your _shine_ could use a little work, though.”

“I hate you,” Leonard says. “And I’m getting up now.”

Except for the part where, even though he’s thirty-six, Jim somehow still has the body of a twenty-five-year-old. And all the leverage in their current position. A hand on the center of Leonard’s chest keeps him flat on his back.

“Jim, come on…”

“Speaking as a well respected instructor of strategy and tactics, Doctor McCoy, I have to ask whether it’s occurred to you that the fastest way out of this bed is just to fuck me?”

Leonard’s pretty sure that can’t _actually_ be true, but his dick is urging him to accept the rationalization.

“Fine,” he says, “but no foreplay. And be quick about it.”

Jim snorts. “And they say romance is dead…”

Leonard just looks up at him.

“Right,” Jim says. “Rolling over and shutting up now.”

And Jim _does_ roll over.

But he barely shuts up long enough for Leonard to get them both prepped. Leonard is in the highly enjoyable process of replacing slick fingers with his hard dick when Jim decides to start a new conversation.

“So guess what?”

The sad part is that Leonard’s not even surprised. He bottoms out, hips pressing against Jim’s ass, withdraws a few inches. “Christ, Jim, what?”

“You are officially fucking the _captain_ of the U.S.S. _Enterprise_ , NCC-17—”

“Jim…” Leonard thrusts, withdraws, adjust his angle slightly and thrusts again, “if this is another one of your pathetic attempts to get me to call you ‘Captain’ while I—”

“Oh god, yeah, _right_ there.”

“Yeah, fuck…” Leonard holds Jim’s hips in place and makes several more thrusts _right_ there. “Besides,” he continues – and, damn it, he never used to _chat_ this much during sex, “you destroyed the _Enterprise_ , remember?”

“Okay, first…” Jim’s hands fist into the sheets as Leonard pushes deeper. “Well, first: _Yes, Jesus, just like that, don’t stop_. But, B: That was _not_ my fault. And, C: The admiralty clearly _agree_ that it was not my fault because, D: You didn’t let me finish before.”

Leonard rolls his eyes, then his hips. “Oh, I’m sorry, is the dick you practically _begged_ to have in your ass distracting you?” He rolls his hips again for good measure.

“Oh, god, Bones,” Jim half laughs, half whimpers, “how are you so fucking perfect?”

Something in the words makes Leonard’s rhythm falter, but Jim doesn’t seem to notice.

“As I was saying,” he continues, “you are officially fucking the _newly commissioned_ captain of the U.S.S. _Enterprise_ , NCC-1701- _A_.”

Leonard still needs a moment before it clicks, the tumblers slowly falling into place. “They’re giving you the new _Enterprise_.”

He’s not moving at all anymore.

“They’re giving me the new _Enterprise_ ,” Jim confirms.

Leonard’s lips move uselessly a few times before they form words. “Wow, Jim… I mean, uh… congratulations.” 

It’s good news, of course it is. 

Jim’s a great teacher, sure. The students practically worship at his feet and the administration only wants to throttle him maybe twenty percent of the time. And he’d be a hell of an admiral, too. For all that Pike likes to pretend he’s afraid Jim would send the rest of the admiralty to an early grave, he’d secretly relish having Jim around to keep them all on their toes. 

And yet.

There’s no doubt in Leonard’s mind that Jim’s as good in the classroom as he is in the bedroom and as he would be in the Situation Room, but everyone knows – _Leonard_ knows – that James T. Kirk _belongs_ on a bridge.

_The_ bridge. _His_ bridge. 

It’s good news, of course it is. And he’s happy for Jim, because how could he be anything else?

Leonard doesn’t even realize he’s pulled out and flopped down on his back until he notices Jim hovering over him.

“I want you there, Bones.”

Leonard blinks at him. “At the ceremony?” he asks. “Of course I’ll—”

“On the _Enterprise_ ,” Jim says. “In my sickbay.”

The words slip from Leonard’s mouth like a reflex. “But Joanna…”

“Is twenty going on forty,” Jim says. “Just like her father was at that age, I’m sure.”

“Jim…”

“She’s halfway through a six-year program in two years and she’s at the top of her class. She’s brilliant, just like her father. Gorgeous, just like her father. And she can take care of herself. Just like her father.” Jim trails a hand down the side of Leonard’s neck and over his shoulder. “So maybe it’s time for her father to let her go.”

“Jim, I…”

“I mean it, Bones. Come with me this time. Your daughter’s all grown up. You did a great job – an amazing job – but it’s done. Come see the universe.”

“Jim, you…”

“Please, Bones, don’t say no.”

Jim’s looking down at him, so intent, so earnest, and so _just about to say something else_ that Leonard has to shake his head and laugh, in the kind of exasperation that feels like joy.

“Then you’re going to have to stop convincing me long enough for me to say yes.”

“ _Bones_ ,” Jim says, “I’m just—” He pauses and blinks down at a smiling Leonard. “Wait – yes?”

“Yes.”

And suddenly they’re both laughing, and kissing, and rolling around together on the bed like idiots, and Leonard feels like forty-two going on twenty.

He lands on top, looking down at Jim, and raises a thoughtful eyebrow. “Hmm,” he says, “never did finish _officially_ fucking the newly commissioned captain of the U.S.S. _Enterprise_ …”

Jim smirks up at him. “You’re gonna be late for class.” 

Leonard grins back. “Let ’em wait.”

 

**_Approximately One Year Earlier_ **

“Damn it, Jim, hurry _up_.” 

Leonard scrabbles for some sort of grip on his desk to help him push his hips back, impale himself on Jim’s fingers. Damn desk is too fucking smooth. He hears a glass tumbler fall to the floor and shatter, but really doesn’t care. At least it wasn’t the bottle of wine.

“Christ, Jim, what the hell are you doing back there? Come _on_.”

Jim squeezes Leonard’s ass with the hand that isn’t busy driving him fucking insane. “You want my cock, Bones?”

Of all the stupid questions… “ _Yes_.”

Leonard can’t _see_ Jim’s smirk, but he knows it’s there. “What’s the magic word?” 

“I could kill you in your sleep.”

Jim laughs. “Been a while?”

“Long enough,” Leonard grunts, hands still groping for leverage.

“Hmm,” Jim says, as the fingers withdraw and he begins to push his way in, “maybe I should take my time, then…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Be gentle and everything.”

“In. Your. Sleep,” Leonard repeats through gritted teeth, as Jim proceeds to inch his way forward with a lack of speed Leonard’s pretty sure is banned by several interplanetary conventions against torture.

“Call me ‘Captain,’” Jim says.

“Not a chance in hell.”

“‘Instructor’?” Jim sounds hopeful.

“Dream on.”

“Okay, fine,” Jim says. “What if I call _you_ ‘Instructor’ and you call me…‘Cadet Kirk’?”

Leonard shakes his head and groans. “Please tell me that the man who just spent ten years as captain of the fleet’s flagship did not waste all his time at the Academy – the time when he was supposed to be, you know, _learning_ – fantasizing about fucking his instructors.”

“Well,” Jim says, “not _all_ …”

“You’re impossible,” Leonard mutters.

Jim heaves a theatrical sigh. “I know,” he says. “It’s just been such a difficult term. And that’s why I’m so grateful to you, Instructor McCoy, for offering me this opportunity to earn some… _extra credit_.”

“I swear to god, Jim, if you don’t shut up and fuck me…”

“Yes, sir,” Jim says. “Right away, sir.”

And Leonard means to object to this, he really does. But Jim is finally fucking him for real now and it really has been a while and, god, he’s forgotten how good this is. 

How good _Jim_ is.

How good they’ve always been together.

Just this once, he thinks, he can let it go.

 

**_Exactly Thirty-Seven Minutes Before That_ **

They meet up at the restaurant as planned. The host seats them at a table for two. 

Five minutes pass as they peruse the wine menu and debate the merits of red versus white.

The waitress comes. They order a bottle of red. They look at the menus. 

Ten minutes pass as they mull over their options and Jim compliments Leonard on Joanna and Leonard insists that she practically raised herself.

The waitress returns with their wine. They order appetizers and entrees.

Seven minutes pass as Jim thinks aloud about what he might cover in his seminar and Leonard offers a few suggestions.

“So how long are you going to be in town?” Leonard asks.

“Could be a while,” Jim says. “Might teach a real course in the fall.”

The waitress returns with a basket of bread and sets it in the center of the table.

“I can’t believe this place is still around,” Jim says. “I used to _dream_ about this food in space.”

Leonard nods. “Yeah, it’s the first place I brought Jo when we moved here.”

“I can’t wait to taste my gnocchi,” Jim says. “And we have to have the tiramisu for dessert.”

Leonard nods again. 

They both reach for the bread basket at the same time. Their hands brush.

“Or,” Leonard says, “we could leave now, go back to my place and order pizza later.”

Jim tosses his napkin on the table and stands up. “Sounds good to me.”

Leonard stands up, grabs the bottle of wine, throws a credit chip on the table and follows Jim out the door.

 

**_About an Hour and a Half Before That_ **

“….Thank you, Cadet Ereklen. I hope that answered your question.”

Cadet Ereklen – who is not, in fact, Orion – has turned an interesting shade of green, but she manages a weak nod. Leonard turns back to the rest of the class.

“Well, everyone, that’s it for today. If nothing else, I hope our discussion has convinced you that those who claim that any idiot with a tricorder can practice medicine are _themselves_ the idiots and should never be allowed anywhere near a tricorder. On Monday we’ll learn about some of the many unmitigated disasters that can befall these same idiots in the absence of any and all advanced medical apparatus. And then I’ll see what I can do about saving you all from that fate. Make sure you’ve read Chapter Seven, ‘Where There is No Tricorder.’ Thoroughly. Class dismissed.”

The lecture hall empties quickly except for one cadet sitting in the second row, face buried in her PADD. Leonard gathers his things from the lectern, steps down from the podium and approaches his daughter, a smile spreading over his face.

“Damn it,” she mutters as he draws near, still focused on her PADD.

Leonard heaves a mock sigh. “I didn’t think the lecture was _that_ bad.”

“Huh?” Joanna looks up at him and frowns. “Oh, sorry,” she says. “It was fine.”

“Fine,” Leonard repeats. “Gee, sweetheart, you’re making me blush.”

Joanna rolls her eyes, but sets her PADD down and actually grants him something like fifty percent of her focus. “If you must know, Daddy, it was kind of frightening and more than a little gross. I assume that’s what you were going for?”

Well, yeah, he kinda was. “I’m not going to mollycoddle them. This is Mandatory Emergency First Aid, you know, not—” 

“Introduction to Tea Parties,” Joanna finishes. “Believe me, we get it. And who even says ‘mollycoddle’?” She rolls her eyes again and goes back to studying her PADD. She scowls at it, stabbing the screen with her index finger. “ _Damn it_.” 

Leonard rolls his eyes right back. “I’m surprised you managed to _catch_ any of the lecture. So, tell me, what is it you find so much more interesting today than your dear father’s wisdom? 

Joanna doesn’t look up. “Captain Kirk,” she says. 

It’s not the answer Leonard was expecting.

“Just so you know, if you’re sitting in my class reading _gossip columns_ , I feel no paternal obligation to give you a passing grade.” Leonard reaches for the PADD, but Joanna pulls it away. “And I hope you realize that half of what they put in those things amounts to criminal exaggeration.”

Of course, in Jim Kirk’s case, the other half tends to amount to gross understatement, but he does not hope Joanna realizes that.

“Dad, geez. I’m not reading gossip columns. Shaheen sent me a priority one message because she heard from Andy that they just announced that Captain Kirk is giving a weekend seminar on command strategy _next_ weekend and there are only like a hundred spots, first come, first served. So I was trying to sign up, but apparently they’re not taking any first years, which is totally unfair because I’m taking way more than a first-year course load anyway.” Joanna pauses to breathe.

“Wait…” Leonard is still trying to catch up, “Captain Kirk is coming _here_?”

“ _Yes_ , and I can’t believe they won’t let me in his seminar.”

Leonard frowns. “But the _Enterprise_ isn’t scheduled to—”

“Um, yeah,” Joanna says, consulting the all-knowing PADD, “Starfleet hasn’t confirmed, but rumor is, he crashed it.”

“He _crashed_ the _Enterprise_?”

“Okay, _that_? Was _so_ not my fault.”

Father’s and daughter’s heads snap up and turn toward the voice from the back of the hall. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Jim,” Leonard says.

Jim smiles as he makes his way down to the front. “Hey, Bones.”

“Oh my god,” Joanna says, staring at Jim, “you’re…”

“Captain James T. Kirk, at your service.” Jim extends his hand. Joanna slowly lifts her own and allows it to be shaken. “And you must be Joanna McCoy. All grown up. Your father told me you were pretty, but I thought he was just exaggerating.” Jim winks, still holding onto her hand. “My mistake.”

Leonard rolls his eyes. “Jim, quit hitting on my daughter.”

“ _Da-ad_ …”

“Nah, he’s right,” Jim says, dropping her hand. “Force of habit. Sorry.”

“What’re you doing here?” Leonard asks.

Jim laughs. “Nice to see you, too, Bones.”

“No, I didn’t mean…”

Jim shrugs. “Heard you’d taken a teaching gig. Figured it was the thing to do.”

“Uh huh.” Leonard nods. “Was this _before_ or _after_ you crashed Starfleet’s flagship?”

“ _Not_ my fault,” Jim says. “How about you buy me dinner and I promise to tell you the whole story?”

“How about I buy you dinner and you promise _not_ to tell me the whole story?”

Jim turns to Joanna. “Your father is mean.”

Joanna nods. “He thinks it’s part of his charm.”

Jim laughs. “I like you,” he says. “You should come to dinner with us.”

Joanna looks between Leonard and Jim. “Thanks, but I have to study,” she says. “Besides, you two probably have a lot to catch up on.”

“I guess we probably do,” Jim says. “What’s it been, Bones?”

Leonard shrugs. “Couple of years?”

Jim smiles at him. “Guess we should catch up, then.”

Leonard smiles back. “Guess we should.” 

Using his special fatherly ability to see his daughter as still five years old, Leonard wills himself to believe this conversation is going right over Joanna’s head. He casts a sidelong glance in her direction. 

She takes a step closer to him and Leonard holds his breath. “ _Dad_ ,” she murmurs. “ _Seminar_.”

Leonard lets the breath go. Apparently Joanna has better things to worry about than her father’s sex life. Leonard can work with that.

“So, Jim,” he says, “we hear you’re giving a special seminar next weekend.”

“Yep. Command strategy.”

“Jo was really excited to sign up for it, but it turns out they’re not accepting first years.”

“Huh,” Jim says. “Mind if I borrow your PADD for a minute?” 

Leonard hands it over. Jim spends a minute tapping and scrolling. 

“That’s funny,” Jim says. “I’m looking at the enrollment list and Cadet McCoy’s name is right here. Must have been some kind of glitch.”

“Must have been,” Leonard says.

Jim hands the PADD back. “Guess I’ll see you next weekend then, Cadet McCoy.”

They both look over at Joanna.

Jim gets a grin and a, “Yes, sir.”

Leonard gets a hug around the neck and a, “Thanks, Daddy. Have fun on your date.”

“It’s not a—” Leonard doesn’t bother to finish the sentence. Who’s he kidding? He turns to Jim. “I need to go back to my place and change. Meet me at Bella Rosa in an hour?”

“Yes, sir,” Jim says.

 

**_Seven Months Earlier_ **

Leonard walks back into Joanna’s dorm building, where he left her to unpack, shower, and change while he went to his own new apartment to do the same. When the lift lets him off on her floor, Leonard can hear voices down the hall, out of sight.

“Hey, Joanna, right? Some of us were just about to go grab some dinner. Wanna come?”

“Oh,” he hears Joanna say, “um, actually…”

Leonard whips out his comm and hits a button as he steps back into the turbolift. He hears Joanna’s ring, hears her tell them, “Just a second,” before the lift door hisses shut.

_“Hey,”_ that same voice says, coming through his comm now.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Leonard says. “I hate to do this, but I was wondering if I could get a raincheck on dinner. Looks like they need me over at Medical right away.”

_“Oh, um, yeah, of course.”_

“Okay, good. I’ll call you later then. Thanks for understanding. Love you, sweetheart.”

_“You, too.”_

Leonard smiles as he hangs up and heads back to his apartment to order a pizza.

 

_**Two Hours Before That** _

“Are we there yet?”

“You think you’re cute,” Leonard says, “but you’re not.”

“I’m a little cute,” Joanna assures him. 

Leonard declines to comment. “We’ll be there in less than an hour.”

“Thank god.” Joanna stretches her arms and legs as far as the limited space allows. “Once I get out of this car, I’m never getting back in it. Ever again.”

“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad. You liked the Grand Canyon. Admit it.”

“Only if you admit that driving one hundred miles out of our way to see the World’s Biggest Muleshoe was a mistake.”

“It was sixty miles. And only if you admit that this road trip was fun.”

“I’ll admit I had fun if you admit you asked for this transfer.”

Leonard looks over at his daughter and smirks. “We should get there in just enough time for you to check in and get your dorm assignment before dinner time. The cafeteria isn’t that bad, but there’s this little Italian place called Bella Rosa…”

“ _Dad_ …”

“I’m not sure if it’s still there, but…”

“Dad, come on…”

“Fine,” Leonard says. “I asked for the transfer. Satisfied?”

“Yes.”

“And…?”

“And…” Joanna heaves a dramatic sigh, “I _guess_ the road trip was _kind of_ fun.”

Leonard smiles. He’ll take what he can get.

 

_**Four Days Before That – Atlanta, Georgia** _

“This isn’t normal, you know,” Joanna informs Leonard as she passes him on her way out to the car with what had better be the last two bags. “And I think that’s everything.”

Leonard continues on his way back into the apartment for one last check. It definitely looks empty. If it hasn’t already been packed or shipped, they probably don’t need it anyway.

“I think we’re ready to go,” he agrees, when he reaches the car again. “And driving’s a hell of a lot more ‘normal’ than flying. If humans were meant to fly, they’d have wings.”

“Right, seeing as we managed to grow wheels and all.”

“You know, I think I liked you better _before_ you developed the capacity for advanced reasoning,” Leonard says, as he opens the driver’s door and climbs inside. “It was all, ‘Yes, Daddy,’ and ‘Wow, Daddy.’ Those were the days.”

Joanna settles into the passenger seat. “Sure they were. What was I? Like, four?”

“Probably more like three, but you were very charming.” Leonard pulls out of the driveway. “The road trip is a lost art. It’ll be fun. I’ll take you to my favorite club in Memphis, we’ll go see the Grand Canyon.”

“Your favorite club in Memphis lets in eighteen-year-old girls? That’s kind of disturbing, Dad.”

“Okay, I _definitely_ liked you better before you developed an adult sense of humor.”

Joanna rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I wasn’t talking about the road trip. No, it is _not_ normal to spend four days driving two and a half thousand miles when it takes less than two hours by shuttle, but you have a phobia and phobias are not rational, and I accept that.”

“That’s very generous of you, sweetheart.”

“However…”

“Yes?”

“I would at least like to hear you admit that _most_ daughters are allowed to leave home at the entirely customary age of eighteen _without_ taking their fathers with them.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leonard says.

“Of course you don’t.”

“I got a job.”

“You _had_ a job.”

“Starfleet Medical asked me to accept a difference placement.”

“More like _you_ asked Starfleet Medical to _give_ you a different placement.”

“You can’t prove that,” Leonard says. He taps on the radio.

Joanna scowls at him and changes the station. “Quite a coincidence,” she says.

Leonard shrugs and pulls onto the freeway. “The world works in mysterious ways.”

“Just so you know,” Joanna says, “I hate you.”

They drive for half an hour, listening to what Joanna has repeatedly assured him is music. 

Leonard turns down the radio.

“I would have missed you,” he says.

Joanna sighs. “I guess I would have missed you, too.”

“But now you just hate me.”

Joanna shrugs. “It’s a trade off.”

 

**_A Couple of Years Earlier – Raleigh, North Carolina_ **

“I thought she would _never_ stop talking,” Leonard growls into the sudden silence as the lift doors slide shut, cutting its three occupants off from the rest of the din. “Twelfth floor,” he tells the lift computer. 

“She certainly was…thorough,” Jim agrees.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you two,” Avery says. “She was _fascinating_.”

Leonard rolls his eyes. “You _would_ think so.”

“Were you even _listening_ , Len?” Avery shakes his head. “I mean, the things Admiral Mangione has seen…”

“You know what?” Leonard hastens to change his tune. “You’re right. It was a _very_ interesting speech. I’m really glad we—” 

But it’s too late.

“Did you know that when she served aboard the U.S.S. _Republic_ , they made first contact with this alien race who—”

“You know,” Leonard says, “this whole thing where you slip into teacher mode and start lecturing us like we’re high school students instead of grown adults isn’t exactly sexy.”

“It’s a little sexy,” Jim says.

Leonard glares at him. “Don’t help.”

The enumeration of Admiral Mangione’s many adventures and accomplishments continues as the lift deposits them on the twelfth floor, as Avery leads them down the hall, and, in an impressive feat of multitasking, as Avery punches in the code for their hotel room.

“Never date a history teacher, Jim,” Leonard says. “Especially not one with a Starfleet fetish. Once he gets started he’s impossible to stop.”

Jim smirks. “Good thing I specialize in doing the impossible.” He puts a hand on Leonard’s arm to stop him from crossing the threshold. He fists a hand in the front of Leonard’s dress uniform and pulls him into a scorching kiss.

From inside the hotel room, the lecture trails off into silence.

Jim pulls away from Leonard and smiles over at Avery, who is now giving them his full attention.

Leonard steps into the room but Jim hovers at the threshold. “Permission to come aboard, Mr. Ellison?”

Avery grins. “Permission granted, Captain.”

Jim grins back and saunters into the room.

Leonard heaves a longsuffering sigh and heads for the bar, loosening the collar on his dress uniform. “I know _I_ need a drink – anyone else?”

“Wouldn’t say no,” Jim says.

When Leonard turns back around with a glass of Woodford Reserve in each hand, Jim has Avery’s shirt off and a grip around the back of Avery’s neck holding him in a kiss. Leonard watches as he takes a sip of his bourbon and then joins them in the center of the room.

Jim breaks the kiss and Leonard hands him his glass. While Jim takes a drink, Leonard takes the opportunity to fuck Avery’s mouth with his tongue.

When they part, Leonard looks over at Jim, who lowers his glass, swallows his bourbon and licks his lips. “Mmm, Bones,” he says, “you always did have excellent taste.”

“I think we’re overdressed, Jim,” Leonard says.

Jim nods and reaches for the fastenings on his own tunic, but Avery holds up a hand. “No, please,” he says, even as he pushes his own dress slacks down over his hips, “leave them on.”

Leonard rolls his eyes, but doesn’t do more than kick off his boots before sitting on the edge of the bed and continuing with his drink. 

By the time Leonard’s glass is empty, Jim has Avery completely naked and bent over the sofa, and has begun to fuck him in short, sure strokes, still very much in uniform.

“Oh, god,” Avery is whimpering. “ _Yes_.”

“Do you like that, _Mr. Ellison_?’” Jim asks.

Avery does not miss his cue.

“Yes, Captain,” he pants. “Please, Captain. Please don’t stop fucking me, sir.”

Leonard rolls his eyes again.

Jim turns his head in Leonard’s direction as he continues his thrusts. “See, Bones? Is that so hard?”

Leonard looks down into his own lap where he’s stroking himself slowly through the open fly of his uniform pants and decides not to give voice to the obvious pun.

He stands up, walks over to the sofa, and shows Jim instead.

 

**_Four Excruciatingly Long Hours Before That_ **

Their eyes meet across a crowded room.

No, really.

But it’s not like there’s much they can do about it. 

Jim’s surrounded by a crowd of admirers, as usual. He’s talking. Telling a story, judging by his gesticulations. People are laughing, which either means it’s a funny story or that they’re all a bunch of pandering sycophants. Knowing Jim, it’s probably both.

Either way, Leonard doesn’t intend to get within fifty feet of that clusterfuck.

Leonard hates Starfleet functions. He’s a doctor, not a diplomat. And yet, here he is. 

“Oh, wow, is that Captain Kirk?”

And here’s the reason Leonard’s here. Avery, who Leonard’s been seeing for a couple of months and who is completely fascinated by all things Starfleet. 

Leonard leans into the hand that’s appeared on his shoulder and glances at Avery before looking back toward Jim and nodding. “Yeah, it is.” 

“You didn’t tell me he was going to be here.”

“I didn’t know,” Leonard says. Though if he had, he might have come alone…

Avery’s hand tightens suddenly on Leonard’s shoulder. “Wait,” he says, excitement barely contained. “Do you _know_ him?”

“Huh?”

“You’re smiling at each other.”

Leonard blinks, looks at Jim’s face, checks in on the muscles in his own. Shit, they totally are.

He turns away from Jim to look at Avery instead. “We were friends at the Academy. Would you believe I was the one who snuck him aboard the _Enterprise_ during the _Narada_ incident?” 

“Are you kidding? Jim Kirk wasn’t supposed to be aboard the _Enterprise_? How did I not know about this? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Leonard snorts. “It was a long time ago. And it’s not something Starfleet’s ever been too keen on me spreading around.”

“So you’re a hero?”

“Not really.”

“You’re too modest, Len. You know, if you’d just said something, I totally would have put out on the first date.”

“You did put out on the first date.”

“Well, I’m sure I could have done it faster,” Avery says. “So, are you going to introduce me or what?”

Leonard looks back over at Jim. “Later, okay? When the groupies disperse.”

“Do they ever?”

Leonard laughs. “I live in hope. C’mon, let’s go find our table.” He takes Avery’s arm and steers him across the room.

“Have I mentioned how much I love a man in uniform?”

“You may have let it slip once or twice.” Leonard raises an eyebrow. “You talking about me…or Jim Kirk?”

Avery shrugs. “Can’t be both?”

They arrive at the table and spot their place cards. A second later, both their eyes land on a place card across the table. _Captain James T. Kirk._

Their eyes shift back to each other.

The corner of Leonard’s mouth quirks up into a half-smile as he pulls out Avery’s chair. “Have a seat,” he says.

Turns out, Jim has a date. Or is someone’s date, really. He’s come with Eleanor Mangione, daughter of Admiral Mangione, principal honoree and keynote speaker of the event. This, Leonard decides, as their dinner plates are cleared, would make skipping out on the speeches to drag Jim upstairs and have their way with him a little bit tacky. 

To say the least. 

And Eleanor is far from unattractive. Jim may have other plans for the night.

Sure, Jim’s been flirting, but then Jim Kirk flirts like most humanoid species _breathe_ , which makes it tricky to pin down specific intent. And it’s not like Leonard can just ask, what with Eleanor sitting right there. Not to mention the table’s four other occupants.

The band starts to play.

“Eleanor,” Avery says, standing up from the table, “would you do me the honor of a dance?”

And that takes care of that.

Leonard stands up and holds out a hand to Jim.

Jim just looks at it.

“Jim,” Leonard says.

“Yes?” Jim asks, making no move to stand.

“Come on,” Leonard says, nodding down at his own outstretched hand.

Jim glances at the hand and then back up to Leonard’s face. “Was there something you wanted to ask me, Bones?”

Leonard sighs. “Fine,” he says. “Jim, would you care to dance?”

“With you?” Jim asks, finally standing and coming around the table. “I’d be delighted.”

“Brat,” Leonard mutters under his breath as he drags Jim onto the dance floor.

“So…” Leonard says, as he takes Jim’s right hand in his left and places his own right just above Jim’s hip.

“So…” Jim repeats, as they begin to sway to the music.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

Jim shrugs. “We weren’t far from Earth and Pike wanted me to stop in for some meetings…”

“Pike wanted to yell at you.”

“He had some things on his mind,” Jim says. “And then I ran into Admiral Mangione, who was looking for an escort for her daughter, so I offered my services.”

“And she accepted?”

“Of course.”

Leonard snorts. “Has she _met_ you?”

“Hey,” Jim feigns affront, “I make _excellent_ arm candy. And what about you? You hate these things.”

“Avery wanted to come.”

“Avery,” Jim repeats. “Right. Guess your daughter isn’t the only thing you’re picking up from school these days.”

“Very funny,” Leonard says.

“Don’t they have rules against that sort of thing?”

“Well, it’s not like he’s _Joanna’s_ history teacher…”

Jim just looks at him.

“…anymore,” Leonard finishes.

Jim laughs loud enough to turn heads.

“Shut up,” Leonard says. “I’m a divorced workaholic on the verge of forty with joint custody of a sixteen-year-old. I take what I can get.”

Jim stops laughing. “Do you, now?” he asks, voice low.

Leonard shifts a bit so they’re dancing that much closer. “Where are you staying?”

“We’re not actually. The admiral booked us seats for a return shuttle at midnight.”

“She _has_ met you.” 

“Ha ha,” Jim says. “She likes to sleep in her own bed.”

Leonard chuckles. “I don’t think it’s _her_ bed she’s worried about. What about you? Do you need to get back?”

“I have a little time.”

“Avery and I have a room.”

Jim smirks. “Avery _really_ likes Starfleet.”

“You could say that.”

“Think he’ll call me ‘Captain’?”

“God, I hope not,” Leonard says. By which both Leonard and Jim know Leonard means, _Yes_.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jim says. By which both Jim and Leonard know Jim means, _Sweet_.

“We can catch up over breakfast,” Leonard promises. “They say the room service here does a hell of a Belgian waffle.”

Jim smiles. “You had me at ‘So…’.”

 

**_July 2263 (A Couple Years Earlier) – San Francisco_ **

Leonard opens the apartment door with slightly more force than strictly necessary and doesn’t stop it from slamming behind him. 

Leonard likes old-fashioned doors.

“Rough day at the office, honey?”

Leonard decides to ignore the chipper sarcasm wafting from the kitchen in favor of launching into the rant he’s been rehearsing all the way from Starfleet Medical. 

“I don’t know what _idiot_ …” he begins, except that he does know _exactly_ what idiot. What he really doesn’t know is: “Who on _earth_ decided to put _that_ man in charge of refitting _your_ sickbay? Just because you’re the flagship, doesn’t mean y’all should be out there field testing every clusterfuck of a redesign they’re trying to pass off as a goddamn upgrade. I mean, why even bother with tricorders?” Leonard asks as he passes through the living room. “Why not just hand out phasers to _shoot_ the damn patients with? It’d be a hell of a lot quicker.” Leonard raises his voice as he steps into the office to toss his PADD on the desk. “I swear no one in this outfit has the good sense God gave a turnip.”

“I love it when you get all Southern,” Jim calls from the kitchen.

Leonard ignores him. “It’s like my great-aunt Bootsie used to say—”

“If it ain’t broke,” Jim recites, walking out of the kitchen and into the living room, “then don’t try to fix it.” 

“ _Exactly_ ,” Leonard says as he steps back into the living room. “If it ain’t broke, then don’t—Jim, why the hell are you wearing an apron?”

Jim grins. “Do you like it?”

Leonard boggles. “It has ruffles.”

“I just thought you’d appreciate coming home to a nice, hot meal.”

Leonard’s confusion melts into fear. “Jim, please tell me you didn’t try cooking again…”

“Seriously, Bones?” Jim pushes his lip into a pout and sighs. “A man spends hours slaving over a hot stove just to put food on the table and this is the thanks he gets?”

Leonard’s eyes land on the dining table, where two places have already been set. He starts backing away, slowly. “Now, Jim,” he says in his most soothing tone, “you are a man of many and varied talents. An exceptional man. Really, it’s only natural that there would be an area or two – minor ones, really – in which you don’t exactly excel…”

Jim crosses his arms over his chest. “Bones?”

“Yeah?”

“I made dinner. For you. So you are going to sit down and shut up and eat what I put in front of you. And you’re going to enjoy it. Got it?”

Leonard nods and forces himself to walk over to the table. He sits down and waits as Jim goes over to the bar, pours a glass of bourbon and comes back to set it down in front of Leonard. Jim disappears into the kitchen without another word. 

Leonard picks up the glass and downs half of it in one swallow.

Leonard listens to the sounds from the kitchen and girds his loins, steels himself for whatever may be coming. He’ll eat whatever Jim puts in front of him and he’ll do it with a smile on his face. Because he is a man. Hell, he was married once. He’s had practice.

By the time Jim emerges from the kitchen, a plate in either hand, Leonard is ready for anything. 

Anything but the amazing looking – and _smelling_ – gnocchi that Jim sets down in front of him.

“My god, this smells incredible,” Leonard says, picking up his fork. “Where did you get it?”

Jim scowls at him from across the table. “Is it so impossible to believe that I actually made it?”

Leonard puts the fork to his mouth and has to take a personal moment as the flavors burst over his tongue. He lets out an involuntary moan as he chews and then swallows. He sets down his fork, blinks and looks at Jim again.

“I think I can die happy now,” Leonard says. “And there is no way _you_ cooked this.”

Jim looks down at his own plate. “If you must know,” he says quietly, “it’s an old family recipe. My grandmother Kirk used to make it. Mom commed the other day and I told her you were here and that I had some time on my hands and she sent it to me. I mean, it took me a couple days of practice, but I thought it turned out pretty well, you know?”

Leonard looks over at Jim’s bowed head and feels like a complete jerk. “Jim, shit, I’m sorry. It turned out perfect. I was just surprised, is all. I didn’t mean…” Jim’s head is still down and his shoulders seem to be shaking slightly. “Damn it, Jim, you’re not…? Jim, look at me…”

It takes Jim a moment, but the shaking stops. When he finally looks up, his face is remarkably straight, but the telltale laughter still shines from his eyes.

Leonard’s own eyes narrow. “You asshole,” he says. “I _knew_ it.”

“Whatever,” Jim says, laughing outright now. “I totally had you going there for a minute.”

“I can’t believe you.” Leonard shakes his head. “You dirty fucking liar.”

“Well, Mom _did_ comm the other day,” Jim insists. “And I _did_ tell her you were here. And then she told me about this amazing Italian place she and my dad used to go to – Bella Rosa – and it turns out it’s right down the street.”

Leonard just shakes his head again and glares.

“Aw, come on, Bones. You could be mad… _or_ you could finish your gnocchi. I mean, it’s awesome, right?”

Leonard has to admit, the kid has a point. He doesn’t tone down the glare, but he does pick up his fork again.

“The place is nice inside,” Jim says. “Small, quiet. We’ll have to eat there sometime before you go.”

Leonard savors another bite before swallowing. “As far as I’m concerned, we can eat there every day until I leave.” He eyes Jim. “I wish we’d known about this place two weeks ago.”

“Don’t glare at me,” Jim says. “How is _that_ my fault?”

“I don’t have to know _how_ to know that it is,” Leonard mutters.

The glare does melt away eventually, though. Round about the time he and Jim finish off the tiramisu. 

Of course that doesn’t keep Leonard from punishing Jim later that night. 

But only because Jim is asking for it.

 

_**Three Months Earlier – Atlanta, Georgia** _

Leonard chimes at the door to his CO’s office. It slides open.

“Good morning, McCoy.”

“Morning,” Leonard says. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes,” she says. “I’m afraid you’ll be spending July in San Francisco.”

Leonard smothers the beginning of a smile and raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“The _Enterprise_ is coming in in June and the medical staff who are re-upping need an in-service training before it leaves for its next mission in August. How in hell they don’t already have somebody _there_ who can do it, I don’t know. I told them I couldn’t really spare you, but they were insistent. I hope you’re not scheduled to have Joanna.”

“No,” Leonard says, “Jocelyn and the new husband are taking her on vacation.”

“Well, at least the timing’s good. Sorry about this, Len. I know you hate to travel.”

Leonard shrugs. “We do what we have to do.”

He waits until he’s back in the hallway before letting the grin spread across his face.

 

_**One Week Before That** _

Leonard’s PADD beeps. He picks it up and clicks to see his new message from one J.T. Kirk. 

_B –_

_Whatever plans you have for July, cancel them._

_– J_

Leonard gives his PADD the eyebrow. _I’m working_ , he types, and hits ‘Send.’

When he and Jocelyn meet to discuss Joanna’s summer plans a few days later, Leonard gives her July.

 

_**Three Years Earlier – The Relva IV Colony** _

Jim’s back is warm against Leonard’s chest, expanding and contracting with each quiet breath. Leonard’s palm rests on the left side of Jim’s chest and he can feel the pounding of Jim’s heart, echoing his own.

“Jim,” he says softly, “I know you’re awake.”

“You can’t prove that,” Jim mutters, voice half muffled by the pillow. 

“I’m a doctor. I can tell that you’re conscious based on your heart rate and respiration.”

“Mm, Bones, stop giving me a medical exam. I thought we were cuddling.”

“Right,” Leonard says, “I’ll just comm Spock and let him know that you’re too busy cuddling to return to the ship.”

“ _Bones_ , c’mon. Could you _not_ mention Spock while we’re in bed?”

“We’re not supposed to be in bed. You’re supposed to be getting up.”

Not that Leonard’s really helping, since he’s not exactly pushing Jim out of the bed, or even bothering to disentangle himself. He’s forgotten how good it feels to rest bare skin against bare skin, to match your breathing to someone else’s rhythms. He needs to be dating more, to be seeing people besides his daughter and his colleagues and occasionally his ex-wife. Everyone tells him so – including his ex-wife _and_ his daughter, who seems to be twelve going on twenty.

He knows they’re right.

“Just five more minutes,” Jim says. “Please?” 

Speaking of his daughter… “You sound like Joanna, when she doesn’t want to go to school.”

“Joanna sounds like a smart girl,” Jim says. “And school sucks.”

Leonard rolls his eyes, but still doesn’t move his arm. “You’re going to be late.”

“I’m the captain,” Jim says. “It’s not like they can leave without me.”

“You left Spock in charge,” Leonard points out, finally rolling onto this back and away from Jim. “Are you sure you really want to test that theory?”

“Fine,” Jim grumbles, but he pushes himself up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m up now. Are you happy? And what did I say about mentioning Spock? It’s like you don’t even want me to stay.” 

“Maybe I just figure it’s better to send you back to Spock than to have him beam into my bedroom looking for you.”

“Spock wouldn’t…”

Leonard just looks at Jim.

“Alright, alright,” Jim says. “I’m getting dressed.”

Leonard gets dressed, too. He’s got his own day of work ahead of him.

“Don’t make me go back,” Jim says suddenly. “I’m not ready to be the captain again.”

Leonard never wants to make Jo go to school either. 

But he always does.

“Sure you are, kid,” Leonard says. “You were born to do this.”

Jim pulls out his communicator and sighs. “Say it,” he says. “Just this once.”

Leonard’s lips quirk just a bit at the edges. He lets the words drip from them, slowly, like molasses. “Captain James Tiberius Kirk.”

Leonard watches the grin spread over Jim’s face as he flips the comm open. “Kirk to _Enterprise_ ,” he says, voice clear and firm. “One to beam up.”

 

_**Six Days Before That** _

“I still can’t believe you had Spock ask me out on a date for you,” Jim says, smirking as he picks at the remains of his food.

Leonard glares across the table. “I did _not_ —”

“I mean, I thought about asking Spock to tell Uhura to send you a classified message asking if you liked me—”

“ _Jim_ …”

“And there were going to be these little ticky boxes you could check for ‘Yes,’ ‘No’ or ‘Maybe’…”

“Damn it, Jim.”

“Yes, there was totally going to be a box for ‘Damn it, Jim.’”

Leonard sighs his defeat. “I need a drink.”

Jim looks around. “I’m pretty sure they don’t serve alcohol here.”

“Believe me, I know.”

“Serves you right. Maybe next time you’ll find a nicer place for our date than the hospital cafeteria.”

“This isn’t exactly Risa. Trust me, this place is as good as it gets around here.”

“Aw, Bones, you _do_ care.”

Leonard shakes his head. Jim’s been like this all through dinner and it’s just so _Jim_ that Leonard has to fight back a smile. 

Then again, it’s _just so Jim_ that Leonard wants to cringe.

They’ve been sitting here for almost an hour and Jim’s barely stopped talking long enough to chew his food. But he hasn’t said one damn thing about anything that matters at all to anybody.

“It’s not a date, Jim,” Leonard says. “I wanted to see you eat.”

“I eat plenty.” 

Leonard snorts softly. “Sure you do. And I bet you get eight full hours of sleep every single night.”

“I don’t need eight hours. I never have.”

Leonard raises an eyebrow. “So, how many are you getting, then?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Bones. You look like shit. Have you been sleeping at all?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Leonard growls. “You’ve been deflecting all damn night.”

“Me?” Jim scoffs. “If you want to heal someone, doctor, start with thy own fucking self.”

“I’m fine,” Leonard says.

“So you _didn’t_ spend all day working in a relief clinic? And Spock _didn’t_ find you working in the lab after hours? And you _won’t_ be going straight back there after I leave?”

“And I suppose _you’re_ just going to head back to the _Enterprise_ and go straight to bed so you can actually get some rest before you work…what? Alpha shift? Maybe beta, too? A little bit of gamma for good measure, because why the hell not?” 

Leonard picks up his glass of fucking _water_ and sets it back down again. Hard. 

“It’s not like I don’t _want_ to sleep, Jim. I _can’t_ ,” he says, keeping his voice low because they’re not alone. “People are dying faster than we can treat them and the only way to change that is to get about a hundred more medical personnel down here yesterday or find a faster cure. And maybe I could find a faster cure – I’m close, I know I am – but every hour I spend in the lab is an hour I don’t spend helping people who need it _right now_. So what the fuck am I supposed to do? I’m a doctor, Jim. People _die_ when I don’t do my job.”

“Well, I’m a captain, Bones,” Jim hisses back, leaning across the table. “And people die when _I_ don’t do my job, too.”

Leonard looks into Jim’s eyes and feels the anger draining from his own body.

When Jim whispers his next words, they’ve lost all heat. “People die when I _do_ do my job, Bones. They die when I do the best that I can.”

Leonard reaches out and lays his hand over Jim’s on the table. “I know, Jim.” They sit like that for a minute, then Leonard tilts his head toward the exit. “Let’s go back to my place. _I_ serve alcohol.”

Jim nods and they both stand. They make the short journey to Leonard’s temporary quarters in silence.

 

Leonard pours the drinks and Jim talks about a mission. He talks about the two security officers and one engineer who died when they beamed down to what turned out to be a hostile planet. He talks about the intel they didn’t have and the intel they misunderstood and the letters he wrote to two sets of parents and one husband.

By the time Jim finishes, their glasses lie empty on the table between them.

“It’s not your fault, Jim.” 

Jim shrugs. “That’s what they tell me.” He pulls out his comm unit to check the time. “I should get back to the _Enterprise_.”

“I should get back to the lab,” Leonard says.

“You’d do better work if you let yourself sleep once in awhile.”

“You ever heard that old saying about glass houses?”

“Look,” Jim says, “I don’t have a hundred medical personnel and they can’t be here yesterday, but I can spare twenty-five and we’ve got a week before we’re needed anywhere else. How about I send them down to the clinic starting tomorrow and you can go to the lab. During the _day_. Deal?”

Leonard shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Alright, what d’you want?”

“If I have to get a full night’s sleep, you do, too.”

“Fine,” Jim says. “I promise to beam back up and go straight to bed.”

Leonard shakes his head again. “No, not there. Up there, you’re the captain. In this room, you don’t have to be. Put Spock in charge of the ship and spend the week down here. There’s plenty to do around here that has nothing to do with being in command. You can dig a ditch, hand out some rations, play with the orphans. Doesn’t matter.” Leonard looks Jim in the eye. “Take a break. You need it.”

Jim thinks about it for a second and smiles. “You want me to stay.”

“I want you to stay.”

The smile turns to a leer. “You wouldn’t happen to have ulterior motives, would you?”

“No ulterior motives,” Leonard says. He pours them both another drink.

Jim picks up his glass, takes sips, licks the remaining bourbon off his lips. “That’s a shame,” he says.

Leonard stands and steps around the table, stops in front of Jim. “Well,” he says, dropping to his knees, “I didn’t say there couldn’t be fringe benefits.”

 

**_A Couple Hours Before That_ **

“Doctor McCoy?”

Leonard tries to school his face into something other than a scowl before looking up from his Petri dishes. A quiet lab is usually the one advantage of sacrificing his off-duty time to researching a _faster_ treatment for the illness ravaging the colonists of Relva IV. 

Usually.

“I’m sorry to disturb you…” the med tech continues, hovering at the door.

_‘And yet…’_ says Leonard’s raised eyebrow as he waits for her to get to the point.

“Starfleet sent a bunch of lab supplies and they have to be signed for and you’re the only one around right now but it’ll only take a minute,” she finally says, all in a rush.

“Supplies?” Leonard asks, making a conscious effort to look less intimidating. “I thought the _Niels Bohr_ was still two days out.”

“It is,” she stammers, “but…”

Leonard does a double-take as a new face appears over the med tech’s shoulder.

Well, not so much _new_ as _completely fucking unexpected_.

“As it happens, the _Enterprise_ possessed the necessary items. When our engagement in the adjacent sector was concluded with greater than predicted efficiency, we were sent in its place.”

“Spock,” Leonard says, not quite able to believe his eyes.

“Doctor McCoy,” Spock replies with a nod, stepping further into the lab. He extends a PADD. “If you would acknowledge receipt of the requested items.”

Leonard reaches out and signs automatically, still trying to process.

“The _Enterprise_ is here? Now?”

“Indeed.” Spock’s tone offers clear acknowledgement of the questions’ essential stupidity.

Leonard ignores it. “ _Jim_ is here?” he asks, just to be sure.

“The captain chose to remain aboard the ship, which is currently in orbit around the planet.”

“Well, tell him to _choose_ to get his ass down here,” Leonard says.

“It is not my prerogative to issue such an order,” Spock says. “I will, however, inform him of your presence on the colony.”

Leonard rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you do that.”

Spock turns to leave.

“Spock,” Leonard calls, stopping him just before he reaches the door, “how is he?”

Spock turns, taking a moment before answering. “The price of greatness is responsibility,” he says at last.

Leonard frowns. “Did you just quote…?”

“Winston Churchill,” Spock says. “He served as the Prime Minister of Earth’s United Kingdom between the years of—”

“I _know_ who Winston Churchill was,” Leonard snaps. He considers Spock’s words and sighs. “Look – has he been eating?”

“Though I have not undertaken systematic observation, I would characterize the captain’s eating habits as…irregular.”

“Sounds about right,” Leonard mutters. He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. “Please _inform_ the captain of my presence _in the hospital cafeteria_ , where I _strongly_ encourage him to join me in one hour.”

Spock nods. “Certainly, Doctor.” He turns back toward the door.

“Oh, and Spock?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“Thanks.”

 

_**Two Years Earlier – Starfleet Academy** _

Leonard arrives outside the Assembly Hall just in time to join the wave of cadets pouring inside. He’s half tempted to linger at the back, but Uhura spots him and waves him down to join the _Enterprise_ ’s first bridge crew in the second row. Sulu nods to Leonard as he takes his place. 

Leonard nods back and is reaching across Chekov to shake Sulu’s hand when he suddenly finds himself being hugged.

Leonard stiffens automatically, but recovers in time to pat awkwardly at Chekov’s back. 

Twice.

Placing his hands on Chekov’s shoulders, Leonard gently sets the kid away from him and busies himself straightening his tunic. Before he can come up with something to say, a hush falls over the assembly. Those who were sitting rise as Jim appears from the wings and takes center stage, standing at attention before Admiral Barnett.

The staging affords the assembly an excellent view of Jim’s ass. Leonard is certain he’s not the only one who notices. 

“This assembly calls _Captain_ James Tiberius Kirk,” the Admiral is saying. “Your inspirational valor and supreme dedication to your comrades are in keeping with the highest traditions of service and reflect utmost credit to yourself, your crew, and the Federation. It is my honor to award you with this commendation.”

Barnett affixes the medal to Jim’s uniform and Leonard can practically see the praise going straight to Jim’s head. He grimaces, even as his heart swells a bit with pride. 

There’ll be no living with the kid now.

The thought comforts Leonard for a moment with its easy familiarity before its taste turns bittersweet in his mouth. He _won’t_ be living with the kid now.

“By Starfleet Order 28455, you are hereby directed to report to Admiral Pike, U.S.S. _Enterprise_ , for duty as his relief.”

Leonard feels his comm buzz in his pocket.

Jim turns away from Barnett and walks over to Pike, who somehow seems to stand tall, even from his wheelchair.

“I relieve you, sir,” Jim says.

Pike looks up at him. “I am relieved.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Congratulations, Captain,” Pike says. “Your father would be proud of you.”

The assembly breaks into applause.

_Father_.

Leonard reaches into his pocket and settles his hand over the comm. His slips from the thundering hall and makes his way outdoors. He stops halfway down the building steps and pulls out the comm to listen to his message.

He’s still there on the steps, sitting now, smiling, when Jim finds him at least half an hour later. 

“Bones!” Jim says, grinning from ear to ear. “Did you see?”

Leonard nods. “I saw. Congratulations, Jim.”

Jim slides three fingers over the medal on his chest. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Atlanta.”

Leonard shrugs. “I was,” he says, “but I had a few hours to kill.”

Jim’s eyes widen. “The hearing. This morning. How did it go? Did they…?”

“I just got the call from my lawyer.” For once, Leonard thinks the force of his own grin may rival Jim’s. “They granted me joint legal and physical custody. And I have Joanna for two full weeks, starting tomorrow.”

“Bones! That’s amazing. We have to go celebrate. Right now.”

“Jim, we can’t just run off. I’m sure there are a thousand people who want a piece of you tonight.”

“And all those people will still be here tomorrow,” Jim says. “You won’t.” He grabs Leonard’s hand and starts dragging him down the steps. “C’mon, let’s go.”

 

_**Earlier That Morning – Eastern Standard Time** _

No one’s ever accused Leonard of being an optimist.

But as he walks out of the courthouse, he just has this feeling, and it feels something like hope. 

It went well. He’s sure it did. And they say he’ll have his answer by tomorrow morning.

Now he just has to wait.

He doesn’t really want to go back to his new apartment, though. Not that there’s anything wrong with it. 

Not a thing, in fact. 

It’s conveniently located within walking distance of the Starfleet hospital and research facility where he’s been posted. It’s far enough from Jocelyn that they’re not neighbors but close enough that it’s still in the same school district. It’s got a room for him, a room for Joanna, a nice little office, and a spacious kitchen where he and Jo can make dinner together or bake cookies. It’s been furnished and professionally decorated, but it’s not a showpiece. The design concept was ‘livable.’

_Create the life you want to live_ , his lawyer said. _And then let me show it to the judge_.

In short, Leonard’s new apartment is perfect.

It’s just not his.

Yet.

Of course, it’s easier to manufacture a suitable life than it is an actual friend, so it’s not like he has anywhere else to go.

Except…

Leonard pulls out his comm and checks the time. It’s only ten a.m. 

That’s seven a.m. in San Francisco.

He pulls up the shuttle schedules as he heads back to the apartment, hurrying now. His cadet uniform is hanging his closet. He wonders if he even belongs in it anymore. Graduation isn’t for two weeks, but it’s not like he’s going to make it to the ceremony. His new assignment starts tomorrow.

He throws it on anyway and heads for the Starfleet shuttle port.

God, he hates flying. 

But there’s only one place he can think to be while he waits for the judge to rule on his new life.

 

_**Three Weeks Before That – San Francisco** _

They’re having dinner in some chintzy Italian place they walked into downtown. The food kind of sucks, but at least no one is gaping at or fawning over Jim.

Not yet, anyway.

Leonard picks up his glass of mediocre wine and empties half of it with one long swallow. He sets it down and looks at Jim. 

“My lawyer wants me in Atlanta as soon as possible,” he says. “She wants to get the custody hearing scheduled and she thinks I need to put some things in place first.”

“When?” Jim asks.

“Tomorrow, if I can. As soon as I meet with some people over at Medical about finalizing my new assignment.” Leonard looks across the table and hesitates. “I don’t know what her big rush is, though. I’m sure I could just stick around until after you—”

“No,” Jim says, “she’s right. The sooner the better. You’re a hero of the Federation. No one’s going to say no to you right now. “

Leonard snorts and looks down at the table. He knows why his lawyer wants to use it, and he’s going to let her, but… 

“You and I both know _I’m_ not the hero here, kid.”

Jim waits for Leonard to look up again. “Speak for yourself,” he says.

 

_**Spring 2256 (A Little Over Two Years Earlier) – Starfleet Academy** _

They wake up when Jim’s PADD slips off the edge of the bed and clatters to the floor.

Bones jolts upright in his chair and looks over at Jim, sprawled across the bed and now blinking to clear his vision.

“What time is it?” Jim asks.

Leonard picks up his own PADD to check. “Ten thirty,” he says.

“On a Friday night? Shit, when did we get _old_?”

“I’ve been old,” Leonard says. “Anyway, we meant to go out. That’s gotta count for something.”

“Yeah, but then we decided to _study_ first,” Jim points out. “That can’t be a good sign.”

“Fuck,” Leonard agrees. “Almost sounds like we’re getting respectable.” 

Jim fakes a shudder. “Bite your tongue.”

Leonard sets the PADD back on his desk. “It’s only ten thirty. We could still go out.” 

“But then I’d have to go back to my room and change.” Jim remains sprawled. “Let’s drink here. Where’s that bottle of Jim Beam?”

“We finished it.”

“When?”

Leonard shrugs. “Last week?”

“And you haven’t gotten any more?”

“Guess it slipped my mind.”

“Shit,” Jim says, “you _have_ gotten respectable. Wanna fuck?”

“Yeah, okay.” Leonard pushes himself out of the chair and strips as he walks over to the bed.

He’s not sure if they’re supposed to be saving face or killing time, but it’s not like it matters. It is possible, though, Leonard reflects as he helps Jim divest himself of his clothing, that this is the first time they’ve done this without drinking first.

A fact which does not escape Jim’s notice.

“You’re a little better sober,” Jim remarks, afterwards.

Fair enough, Leonard thinks. “You’re a little better drunk,” he says.

Jim nods. “I’ve always suspected as much.”

“I’ll pick up another bottle tomorrow.”

“Get the Woodford Reserve,” Jim says. “I like that one.”

“Sure.” 

Leonard’s feeling indulgent. 

And oddly wakeful for just having had an orgasm. 

It’s not even eleven thirty. The lights are still on full.

“Lights – fifty percent,” Leonard says.

He thinks about putting on a holovid, but doesn’t.

“Respectable, huh?” Jim says, out of nowhere.

“Stranger things have happened,” Leonard quips. “Ma and Pa would be so proud.” He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, even before he feels Jim tense beside him. “Jim, I’m sorry, I wasn’t—”

“No,” Jim says, “it’s okay.”

The silence should be uncomfortable, but it isn’t.

“Do you think you can miss someone you never met?” Jim asks, after too many minutes to count.

“Yeah,” Leonard says, glancing over at Jim.

Jim is staring at the ceiling, like he’s trying to see into the past. “Sometimes I think I’ll be closer to him. Out there.”

It’s almost midnight now.

Leonard’s head is clear.

“I’m going to move back to Georgia,” he says. “After graduation. She’ll be nine. And I’ll be a Starfleet Officer. That’s got to count for something, right?”

It’s Leonard’s turn to stare at the ceiling, like it can show him his future.

His heart pounds in his chest.

He doesn’t need an answer. 

Except that he does.

Jim must be looking at him now. He feels warm breath skate over the side of his face.

“You’re a good man, Bones.” 

Leonard thinks that maybe he will be.

 

_fin/debut._


End file.
